


reverential

by cassleia



Series: a rebellion happens in stages [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fest, Force Temple, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassleia/pseuds/cassleia
Summary: The temple on Fest has been standing for longer than any recorded history. It has been the source of belief, and in the same way, it has been the source of pain. Cassian has felt it all, kneeling before the Lady of Light.4 times Cassian has knelt at her base.
Relationships: Cassian Andor & Original Character(s)
Series: a rebellion happens in stages [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843261
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	reverential

Everything underground feels closer than it is, as if at any moment everything might come collapsing on top of them. Cassian pulls Lucía closer to him at the thought, keeping her hand even with her attempts to squirm away. 

“Let me _go _Cassi!”__

__“You know I can’t, Lu, Mamá will kill us both if we’re late,” he protests. He begins to swing their hands as he pulls her along in an effort to placate her. It almost works._ _

__Lucía grumbles, but settles down with an overexaggerated huff._ _

__Cassian is barely paying attention to the way she rambles on, barely enough to nod in all the right places. Usually he would pay more attention, and he will when they get home, but right now he is more focused on the walls._ _

__The torn paintings make his stomach turn, he hadn’t truly considered what it meant that nobody was here before. The tales Mamá told of the saints and their followers that had moved stone and protected the planet had always been captivating, but recently he’s been able to follow the texts on his own._ _

__The mere fact that the caretakers of the temple are gone has implications that one might drive themselves insane thinking about. He knows Mamá believes that whether they had left, been driven out, or worst of all remained trapped in the temple, it had not been for lack of caring._ _

__He follows her lead. It is hard to imagine that people they had held so dear as to create the structures seen here would just leave._ _

__A small gasp at his side pulls him from his thoughts. He follows Lucía’s gaze up ahead to Her. The Lady dwarfs them, the dim light casting a looming shadow across the hall. There are many statues littered over the tunnels that surround the temple, but she is one of the best taken care of._ _

__Mamá says that she’s even older than the city itself. It is hard to imagine something so old. Something so loved that it would continue to exist even now._ _

__Lucía tugs on his hand, “Come on,” she whispers, tugging him over to the statue._ _

__Mamá might worry if they are late, but she’d certainly understand this detour. She’s the one who taught them to stop at any rate. “Slow down, we’re going, we’re going.”_ _

__Of course, it is almost impossible to stop a determined six year old, especially his sister. Lucía kneels at the base of the Statue, shooting him an attempt at a glare that’s a mirror of his Mamá’s._ _

__His eye rolling is more fond than anything, not that she has to know that. “I’m coming. It isn’t like you’re ever this fast when Mamá brings us,” he mutters._ _

__Still, he kneels at her side. There’s a sense of connection to something much larger than them, much older. It is built into the bones of the planet, and he marvels at being a part of something so sacred._ _

__He lights the candle (Mamá says he shouldn’t let Lucía do it yet), and she reaches for his hand. Cassian squeezes her hand, closing his eyes as he thinks back to every story they’d run through._ _

__He knows them all. The Lady had led the oldest group of greats that the temple had ever known, and paying respect to her brought them strength._ _

__Cassian needed it now more than he ever had. He had to step up. When he pulls Lucía up his determination has doubled. He can follow what his parents have built. She will be at his side when he does._ _

* * *

____

* * *

__The tattered bit of paper almost crumbles between Cassian’s fingers. He replaces the loose stone, tucking the information into the pocket of his parka._ _

__When he places his hands over the flame they still hurt as they warm up, pinpricks rising from the difference in temperature. He’ll have to mend his gloves again if he doesn’t want to lose a finger by spring._ _

__The glint of gold illuminated by the flickering candlelight forces him to look up at her. The Lady is an impressive work of art to anyone’s eye, and Cassian resents her for it._ _

__She looks down at him, and all at once he feels small._ _

__The weapons and datachips in his pack seem to triple in weight. It would be easier to keep walking, but there is something magnetic about her gaze. As much as those stories are for children, which he hasn’t been in so long, he hasn’t broken the habit of stopping in this gaping hall._ _

__She was supposed to be a guiding light, through life and these tunnels alike. The light to come to even in the darkest days of Fest’s winter. Even when you felt most lost. Well, he certainly felt more lost than ever now, but looking up at Her brought nothing but more anger._ _

__Why was she there if not to taunt them?_ _

__It was insane to believe in something that had done nothing for them. The Force, the statues, all of the history and where were they now?_ _

__The others had been right, it was a fool’s mission to believe and he was no fool. He didn’t believe in any of it._ _

__If there had ever been anything more than a building here it was long gone. It would hurt less if he had never believed in Her at all, but the remaining shards of belief twist in his chest._ _

__Pushing up from his knees he extinguishes the candle. He watches until the last of the dripping wax hardens, and with that he vows not to return._ _

* * *

____

* * *

__Cassian presses both palms to the cool stone below. Then, without truly thinking it through, his hand is balled into a fist and all that registers is the sharp pain as his hand strikes the smooth stone._ _

__He doesn’t know why he thought it might make any sort of impact. As far as its been told, the statues had been here for centuries. They had stood through the countless groups that sought to control Fest, those that certainly wouldn’t want them to have dreams like this to cling to._ _

__He shakes his hand out and pulls it to his chest. It had been stupid to come here. Only blind believers looked up at Her and found solace._ _

__Cassian only finds himself with more questions._ _

__Once he had looked up, hands curled around the candle at Her base. Warmth spread from the flickering flame as well as the Lady’s outstretched hand. Being connected to the oldest remaining parts of his planet’s history had been something to take pride in._ _

__Stories of the Lady that had resisted the manipulations of the Dark had left him in awe._ _

__But that had been when he’d been a child who still had family to cling to. Now, he was alone. Any faith he had was reserved for his compatriots. Everything else lost, he had to have faith in those that wanted to make things right._ _

__He looks the Lady directly in the eyes, and she looks back. He’d like to think they come to a sort of understanding, but he can’t bring himself to care either way. He can’t. “What does it matter what you think?” he asks the empty hall._ _

__It doesn’t. None of it matters if there wasn’t ever anything to believe in. If he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else, well, nobody is there to say._ _

__He’d come back here one last time, just to see if he felt anything before he left. The chances of him returning are low, he isn’t delusional, he knows the most likely outcome. Whether he left or stayed there was war everywhere._ _

__But he feels nothing, not even the anger of his younger self._ _

__He leaves without so much as a backwards glance. The only evidence that he’d even visited was left in scraped knuckles from the lapse in judgement._ _

__A chill settles into his bones as he climbs the steps, it has been difficult to rid himself of it even indoors since Lucía left. She’d still believed, and even as pointless as he found it, he’d kept it to himself for her._ _

__She’d known of course, that somewhere along the line he hadn’t stopped anymore, even to warm his hands. It had been one of the only things they hadn’t spoken of. It had been better that way._ _

__The last time he’d stopped here was with her. It had been her goodbye to the place that had sheltered them all at one point or another. He was almost grateful she’d had this, even if it was difficult to understand._ _

__Without her here, there was no need for niceties anymore. There had been no warmth left today, only the persistently burning light, dim, but never gone._ _

__He shuts the door, careful as ever that there isn’t anyone around as he pulls himself out. There is a finality in the act that he must ignore if he doesn’t want to drive himself mad with doubts._ _

* * *

____

* * *

__Cassian trails his fingers along the walls of the very temple he had once railed against. His reintroduction to Fest had been overwhelming, but nothing so much as this._ _

__Every step through the winding tunnels brought a cascade of memories_ _

__When he had been a child they’d come here and lit candles, he remembers burning his fingers in an attempt to get ever closer._ _

__The temple had been merely a ghost of the potential it held, of the history it had lived, and even then it had left him gazing upon it all in awe._ _

__He tries to imagine his childhood self stood before the splashes of vibrant colour that have been painted on, but he can’t. His childhood is told in greyscale, with the rare flash of colour that only lasts mere moments._ _

__Even now the years of scarcity are clear in the remaining structures. The irreparable art of his youth is gone, replaced by new beauty. He recognizes pieces of it, but feels isolated from others. Foreign bits of a home that he should know better than any other._ _

__The history recorded in the modern bits of the temple is grisly, but it is necessary lest they forget how they’d survived._ _

__It is surreal to see the years of his childhood painted across the same walls as the saints of old, but perhaps it is the only thing that could make him come to an understanding with them all._ _

__Maybe they’d been people all along, he muses as he walks down a too familiar path._ _

__It was instinct. He'd had to come here alone, sit with the memories this sparked. Now, kneeling before the statue of the Lady of Light just as he had all those years ago he has to swallow against the rising tide of emotion._ _

__Once, he had looked upon and cursed Her name. He had been tired, bruised, fresh wounds and anger in equal amounts. He hadn't understood how anyone could believe in a figure that had long abandoned them._ _

__Over a decade had passed since the last time he’d been here he had been full to the brim of anger, even as he tried to convince himself he was indifferent. A hurt borne of abandonment was difficult to carry, and the bitterness had threatened to eat him from the inside out._ _

__To this day he is certain that his faith in people had saved him._ _

__Now, he looks up and sees something vastly different. And he thanks her for keeping hope alive. He might have lost his faith, but so many hadn’t, driven and comforted by a belief in what had been._ _

__The flickering light of the candles at the base of her statue and her gaunt face make for an eerie sight, but he will easily admit that the sight of the efforts being made for restoration of the temple’s former glory elicit a new hope._ _

__He understands now, She had held the guidance of those stories, resisted the Dark and in turn taught those who came next to do the same. Darkness pulled at them all, and they hadn’t fallen to it no matter how many times it had clawed at the fabric of their community._ _

__Cassian looks up at the outstretched hand that had seemed so mocking those years ago and knows that he is home._ _


End file.
